It hurts
by rachelberrys
Summary: When House is faced with something so difficult all he needs is his friend but having his friend around isn't as easy as it seems. Hilson.


Just an idea I had and decided to write. It's not something I've been hours into worrying over every line. Just something I wrote because I wanted to write it. I may do more one shots with the same theme at a later date, if I get to the urge to.

House sat there and took a deep breath while flinging his head back. He was tired and he was frustrated and upset and confused and so much more and he just wanted the next few days to be over with. He took a drink of his scotch and the door bell rang.

"Come in," he knew it was Wilson. Yet Wilson didn't come in, and he knocked again. "I said come in."

"House.. will you... it's locked."

He turned his head to look at the door hoping maybe he could unlock it with his mind. He didn't even remember locking it since he knew Wilson was coming over. Why would he lock it? But he got up and walked over to let the younger man in, and closing the door behind him.

"Chinese." Wilson said as he held up a greasy brown bag and handed it to his friend. "And I tried the new place, so-"

"I told you not to try the new place."

"Well our usual place was busy and you told me to be here at 7."

"It's 7:04"

"Yes, House, I'm a few minutes late."

"Well if you were gunna be late anyway why not be late for a good reason and show up with food I know I like rather than with food I might like."

"You know what, if you don't like it, I'll give you 50 bucks."

"What if I double don't like it?"

Wilson ignored his friend and sat down on the couch without House even realizing it. Once he noticed that Wilson was already sitting down House went to join him.

House had on some discovery channel show and a Lion was currently ripping apart some smaller, defenseless animal. Not wanting to focus on the blood while eating Wilson spoke, "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

House just looked at his friend and then back to the TV while taking a bite of his chicken ball. "No." He didn't want to talk about it but that obviously wasn't up to him. Wilson had control in this relationship and they both knew it.

"How's your leg doing?" Wilson just had a tone of voice which was so personal even a casual conversation would sound like the most intimate details were flowing.

"It's fine."

"When you're stressed or upset your leg hurts and you say it's doing fine?"

"Yeah...it's fine." Yes, House was lying and yes, Wilson knew House was lying.

"It wasn't your fault." Wilson made sure House heard him. He made sure his friend understood what he said. He knew tomorrow would be a hard day for House and he wanted to make sure that he knew deep down that it wasn't his fault. Not at all.

"I know." And House did know that it wasn't his fault, but he still felt responsible. It didn't make sense and he knew it was irrational but it was how he felt and it was what he knew.

"And I'll be there," he waited a moment to see if House would say anything, he didn't. "And if you're finding it difficult I can help you."

"You know, I don't like you like this."

Wilson smirked at his friend's comment. Perhaps it had much more meaning than one would think. "Pass the rice, please."

After a solid 30 minutes of laughing and drinking and eating and talking and enjoying their time together Wilson was at the door. "I gotta go, now."

"No, why don't..." House was looking for something to convince his friend to stay the night. "why don't you stay the night?" He couldn't come up with much.

"House you know I have to go now"

"Just this once," his big blue eyes were begging his friend to stay even though he knew it wasn't his choice, neither one of them had any control over the matter. "one night."

"I'll see you tomorrow, House." And with that he was gone leaving House alone in his apartment. He hated being alone for the past few days, before then he liked being alone. He liked actually being able to hear his own thoughts and not being nagged by others who tend to indulge. Except Wilson. He always liked Wilson's company.

Another drink and a few more vicodin and House headed to bed. He remembered what Wilson had taught him a few years earlier. He usually 'talked' to his dad before bed because Wilson had told him it would help him deal with the issues he had about his departed father. But he couldn't do that anymore. With anyone. It didn't feel right to him. He felt stupid.

The next morning he woke up late. The sun was shining in on his face and he realized his alarm didn't go off. He had 30 minutes to get ready. A lot of that time went to picking a tie. Black seemed too formal, anything else didn't seem appropriate. He figured black was his best bet though, and he went with it.

Once he got to where he needed to be he walked right in, knowing he was already late and he stood at the back of the room waiting to be called up. Wilson appeared beside him without warning. "You ready?"

House let out one of those laughs that aren't a laugh but aren't anything else. A "huh" sort of sound as if the question he was just asked was stupid. He took a deep breath and turned to his friend. "I don't think I can do it."

The people in the back row near to him turned to shush him because someone else was at the front of the room speaking and they wanted to hear. Innocent enough but it upset House to the point that it was overwhelming.

No one could deny that House was an emotional man in the sense that he felt many emotions. Not in the sense that he let them get to him but in the sense that he felt, a lot. This was all too much for him and he had to leave the room. He had to get away from it. He had to be alone for a minute.

But Wilson followed him to the refreshment room. "How's your leg?"

"IT HURTS." House yelled to his friend. He ran his hand up and down his right thigh gripping it. He was leaning against the wall with his cane doing the same, beside him.

"I'm sorry," Wilson said before he left the room. "I'm sorry you have to do this and I'm sorry I can't help you more." And he was gone.

House stood there and ran his hand over his face, feeling his unshaven beard he took in a deep breath through his nose and he heard his name called.

He walked out back to the main room where he walked up an aisle. People lined on both sides, a sea of black. Other doctors were there. Cuddy, Chase, Foreman, all the faces he knew. The only one he cared about was Wilson's though.

When he got to the front of the room he did everything he could not to look behind him. Not to look at the thing everyone had already seen. He just began to speak.

"There was never a time I had to worry about Wilson leaving. He was always...always there to talk to me when I needed him," he took a break from speaking and again scanned the room for Wilson's face. He promised he'd be there and House needed his friend. "and I need him now but I guess it's too late for that," Without looking at it he pointed to the casket behind him, "Wilson never took anything from me, all he wanted was a friend he could depend on. And I wasn't that friend," a deep breath, "I didn't deserve him and he didn't deserve me. And because some idiot decided to get drunk one night and go for a drive my friend may have died never knowing how much I valued the fact that he put up with me."

House didn't feel he could go on any longer. He just turned around to look at his lifeless friend lying in the big wooden box behind him.

"They couldn't have given me an nicer suit?" House heard from his right. He looked to see his friend there, sure, not in reality but in his mind. In his mind he had spent every night with him since the accident. Nights of eating Chinese and watching crappy movies on cable. Or maybe not in his mind. Maybe he really was talking to Wilson. Did it impact his views on the afterlife? That's not important. What was important was that his friend was there. In as real of a sense as he could be.

He smiled to his friend and turned back to the audience. He didn't have anything else to say to them. To Wilson, maybe. To himself, maybe. But not to them. He was, however, last to speak and people began standing and moving around. He loosened his tie and began his departure before Cuddy stopped him. "House, this is more difficult on you than on anyone else, and I know that. Talk to me, if you need to. You can have more time off work if you need it but please just let me know. I'll do what I can."

"Can you bring Wilson back?" He obviously knew the answer and limped off before even waiting for a response.

Wilson met up with him before he left the building. "I'll be over at 8?"

House nodded. "See ya then."


End file.
